


Exo

by Lord Felwinter (Hurleyvxv)



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurleyvxv/pseuds/Lord%20Felwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We....were built by other hands. For war, destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exo

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this up the other night with the Grimoire cards about the Exo, and I just. Slam dunked it. From there. 
> 
> Also: the text is from Ghost fragment: Exo 3. I just fixed it up a little bit, but the text is pretty much the same.

 

_Have I ever suffered exhaustion?  Someone asked me. Or I asked of myself. Then it looked at me, this moment was real. I told it what every Exo knows:_

"What can't touch you, has no strength over you. Fatigue has never touched me." 

_But shame._

_Shame is a different affiliation._

_I am a soldier. Built by human hands and forced into war. Forced into the role of a warrior. According to my scars, and bits and flashes, every battle has been forgotten. I have this clear, horrible sense that everyone died. That I murdered them all. In my unit, every soldier was killed but me. Yet, despite a million chances- to be scrapped, to be torn to shreds- I stood there. Making fists out of habit, but with nothing to hit._

_I fought to save Earth- that was my sense of things. But- out world was collapsing around us. Every soul was doomed to die. Even cockroaches and microbes. And being an expert of the art of losing, I saw of nothing but loss with this battle, as with the others._

_Shame took hold of me, shook me, jarred me. It stole my sense, my mass. My resolve._

_Suddenly, I felt like a feather._

_Like a breath; any small nothing could carry me away in the first breeze._

_But, in the midst of said despair, a fresh thought took hold: I was cursed._

_And do you know what a curse is?_

_It's stubborn. It will hold you once everything has given up on you. And it was obvious that survival was my eternal curse. A million battles, and judging by the lack of evidence, how many were won? None. That's why shame was chewing away at my ceramic insides. But, despite the horrific losses, I endure._

_Closing my eyes, I forced my fists to open._

"This isn't over," _I said. To this enemy, to myself. To whoever was there, to the wind threatening to carry me away._

"This war isn't done with me." 

 


End file.
